


Does Your Mother Know?

by GhostJ



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: AlwaysALady!Harry, BAMF Eggsy, BAMF Harry, Eggys-wants-to-drink-Champagne-from-Harry’s-No-Nonsense-Pumps, Gen, Have a Biscuit Mr. Unwin, Merlin and Harry are the best of friends, Rule 63, Women Being Awesome, and everyone else’s worst enemies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-25
Updated: 2015-07-25
Packaged: 2018-04-11 03:08:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4418780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GhostJ/pseuds/GhostJ
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Reporting tha’ was well cold, Sir. Im’ma need a minute or two ‘efore we leave, or else Merlin’s getting an eyeful, yeah?”<br/>Harry sighed at Eggy’s breathless tone and tucked a few wayward strands back into her bun.<br/><i>Well, it wasn't as if he'd not said practically the same thing in regards to Percival’s new pistols last weeks. </i></p><p>Wherein Harry negotiates not being dead, inheriting the reigns of an international spy agency and a rather empathetic disinterest in shagging her protégé.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Does Your Mother Know?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Clocketpatch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clocketpatch/gifts).



> OMG CLOCKET I HATE YOU SO MUCH.  
> I can’t believe that I wrote this for several reasons, a) it’s not Toku, b) it’s Rule 63, and c) I turned in out in 3 days (RL – what’s that?).  
> This fic is **unbeta’d** by the esteemed Clocket (‘cause it’s her bloody fault, yah?) and is not brit picked. I also watched this movie _once_ while turning out a sweater and my recollections of the various characters are more likely based on the excellent works in this fandom by lazulisong and Rageprufrock and apologies go out to them and any other authors I may have unintentionally plagiarised (although I've so far managed to avoid the other Rule63 fics).  
> 
> 
> I also want to point out that there is a LOT of very inappropriate swearing and language (hence the rating), which shouldn't be a surprise to anyone who's seen the movie. Nothing worse than the original source material and far, _far_ , less graphic violence (since I'm fairly pants at writing it!)  
> 
> 
> If you want to point out any errors/inconsistencies, or if you would like to beta on a random basis (there can be knitted accessories in your future!) please let me know in the comments.  
> 
> 
> I own none, sadly none, of these characters and the title of the fic comes from ABBA's song of the same name (although I'm certainly thinking of the Mamma Mia version).

Growing up it had been obvious to those members of the quality as cared that the esteemed Lord Hart was unable to deal with the fact that his first born boy was, in fact, a rather pretty girl. The truth, however, was that the Earl had all together appreciated his daughter’s penchant for hunting, statecraft and breeches - later guns, espionage and impeccable 3 piece suits - rather than, say, the _Arts_. Her mother had been rather more put out by her daughter’s general disinterest in being a _Lady_ , but they had formed a general truce over Harry (nee Harrietta)’s interest in needle work. In fact, it would have surprised many of her family’s associates that, even once her brother had been born, her father had invested even more in her tutors and training. After all, it had rather agreed with both her and her parents that, now that she'd not have to inherit the castle - which by all rights was horrifically Rocco - she should focus on a calling more to her own tastes. And to the benefit of the crown, of course.

 

* * *

 

Eggsy is in all things a surprise and delight. And _thank goodness_ she’d been available and just a tad… irate when she’d gotten the call. A state of mind she was frequently in, having just come off another ridiculous honey-pot mission, which Arthur, “the once and ‘until-her-or-Merlin-were-dragged-from-the-field-kicking-and-screaming’ king of arseholes”, seemed to delight in assigning her. The current Arthur had always despised _modernisation_ and the fact that she continued to be their top rated agent, against several of his own protégé, meant she was quite frequently on the roster for the more… _specialist_ of their missions.

So, she may have been feeling slightly vindictive when Eggsy had called. Bloody-minded enough to look at him slouching at the table and consider what someone with his fathers’ loyalty, his mothers’ natural skill, and a quite _stunning_ disregard for other people’s property might be capable of. More than capable enough to be selected, she was sure, and hopefully capable enough to cause Arthur to have a small apoplexy at that. Nothing too major of course, she’d as yet not found a way to ensure Merlin got the nod before her, but hopefully the sanctimonious plonker would finally need to step back from assignment selection, at the very least. She’d originally planned to leave her candidate for Lancelot’s replacement up to Merlin, but that git was still holding tight to his grudge from their own competition so many years ago. Although his candidates were undoubtedly highly qualified, she was rather hopeful that, with Eggsy, half her mentoring time wouldn’t be taken up dealing with the rumours that she was fucking whichever RAF twink Merlin had sent her way. An irony in hindsight, she would later agree, although not honestly warranting Merlin laughing hard enough to set off his biometric deadman’s switch. 

Watching Eggsy take to the exams had been a thing of beauty and, although she was gratified to see the strong stamp of his father on him; Lee, for all the hopes she’d had, had always seen his candidacy as a privilege. Eggsy, though saw it only as a challenge; of his skills, of authority, of his lot in life and it's nothing that she can't understand and… appreciate.

Which isn't to say that everything is sunshine and full metal jackets.

 

* * *

 

"Eggsy, be a dear and shut your gob." Harry said.

They had been at this training exercise for the better part of a day, and although Harry appreciated how excited Eggsy was to see some “real” action, chemically doctored paint balls and non-lethal hand-to-hand only, _she_ was trying to listen for a sign that Percival and his protégé had managed to take out Kay and his lout.

"E's Charles, fucker couldn’a find ‘es arse using Kay's prick". Eggsy muttered in response from her six, albeit a bit quieter in deference to her growing ire.

"Succinctly put,” Harry agreed. “Which likely means we are now facing the estimable Roxanne and our organisation’s top scoring sniper. So, if you would please refrain from your colourful, if not entirely inaccurate, descriptions of Charles’ pedigree?"

She adjusted her weight on her back heel and appreciated how Eggsy read her intent easily; the younger man moving forward and edging under her line of sight as he lead the way around the corner towards the alley’s mouth.

Although the candidate selection process was, by and large, handled without input from the sponsoring agents, Merlin had always insisted on pitting the agent-candidate “teams” against each other at least once. This served both the practical reason of cutting down on nepotism - you simply wouldn't put forward anyone you weren’t actually willing to work with - and Merlin’s betting pools tended to be much higher when the agents were involved. For instance, due to Eggsy (and Roxanne)’s rather excellent performances so far, Harry was well on her way to being excused from Lord Sterling’s balls next season. A prize well worth the ignominy of Eggsy carting her "unconscious" body around for the first half of this exercise. Which isn’t to say that she didn’t appreciate the entertainment value of the almost 10 minutes Eggsy had spent trying to find a way to transport her without touching anything between her knees and shoulders.

"Fucking, cunt-faced, chav." Eggsy snarled viciously. His gun pointed at the alley’s mouth even as he retreated back towards her position. "Fucking shite. They've shacked up, ‘s’a fucking trap."

Harry sighed, Percival was still holding a grudge over Peru then, and pulled Eggsy into a, rather too handy, doorway as they were immediately hemmed in under fire.

"Charlie-boy’s making a big mistake; Roxy ain't never gonna touch 'es prick." Eggsy said.

"More likely they both believe us to be the bigger competition." Harry agreed. “It is to be expected after all.”

"Ain't that somethin’." Eggsy said, shooting her a rakish wink. He flipped his spent cartridge out and slammed a fresh one in, obviously preparing to engage the competition.

"If you could see yourself to dealing with Ms. Roxanne and Charles, I believe I can handle Kay and Percival." Harry continued unperturbed.

It would be considered rather bad taste for her to directly engage the other candidates, and Arthur would probably send her to seduce a Russian I.T. magnate for eliminating his favourite ‘son’, but it was altogether unconscionable that Eggsy's success should be threatened because her co-workers were infants.

"Ta, Sir."

Eggsy darted forward shooting wildly. She followed a bit more sedately and took the opportunity to shoot Kay, visibly lining up a shot on Eggsy, through a widow in passing. She’d really need to have words with Eggsy about covert operations at some point soon.

As it was, she turned the corner to see Eggsy triumphantly wrestling a, hopefully, disarmed Roxanne to the ground beside a stunned Charles. Harry sighed, sighted, and shot; her paint ball whizzing by Eggsy’s ear to remove Roxanne from the game. Eggsy reacted to the sudden attack, diving to the side even as his gun came up and, sighting towards her, he adjusted to fire into the second floor window above. Not that she’d allow her protégé to see, but the loud thump of chemical induced unconsciousness was a relief to her and probably a blessing to Percival as well. The other agent was surely tired from climbing the building and _babies_ needed plenty of rest after all.

“And that, Eggsy dear,” Harry chided as she came over to check the ‘bodies’. “Is why, although a gentleman may be compassionate, he may not be a _fool_. Although I am heartened to see that my faith in your aim was not mistaken.”

"I'm well sprung, Sir. Well sprung." Eggsy replied breathlessly.

And here Harry had hoped shooting him would have dulled the wide eyed and slack jawed adoration somewhat. Harry’s comm then took the opportunity to sputter angrily to life, blasting her with the highly recognisable chords of Mrs. Robinson and Merlin’s whining.

“Honestly, you’d make it much easier on the wee lad, and my bettin’ pools, if yeh could see to laying ‘im across yer knee for a bit.” Merlin grouched.

“Dearest Merlin.” Harry ground out, directing Eggsy to gather up Charles and Roxanne’s remaining ammunition. “I know your education in the classics is woefully based on Radio 4 dramas, but your tasteless and _mistaken_ casting of my protégé as Oedipus has become rather too 5 th century Greece for 21st century London. If you insist on being such a fan of the classics, I will be forced to replace all your tablets with abaci, although I believe that type of nostalgia is all the rage for _your_ preferred demographic?”

“You touch my tech, you bloody-minded minx, and I’ll see that Eggsy finds your collection of Pride and Prejudice dvds.” Merlin countered.

“Touché.”

* * *

 

Considering Harry had been close enough to see the muzzle flash of Valentine’s gun, waking up was not something she’d expected. Let alone waking up to the steady thrum of the Kingsman’s medical center’s equipment. At one time, she might have feigned sleep to listen in on ongoing gossip and gather her bearings, but she was rather too old to care if Guinevere had successfully stolen Kay's latest target. Also, last time she’d done it, she’d unintentionally led Arthur to force Merlin to debug the vital monitoring system, it had accurately read her as conscious against all other checks, and Merlin had threatened to withhold the good drugs were she to do it again. So, she sighed loudly and opened her eyes.

"Oh, thank gods you're awake - you need to sign these forms."

Merlin, the sentimental sod, walked into the room too quickly to have been doing anything but monitoring her biometrics, which wasn’t entirely unexpected. However, his entrance causing the room’s other occupants - a rather scruffy looking pug and it's even scruffier looking owner - to jerk awake at the noise was rather unprecedented. Harry reached out a hand to pat JB as he slobbered excitedly along her arm. It appeared the little pug had been sleeping against her side judging by the warm patch, and she deliberately made her mind shy away from how the patch seemed several times too large for a dog of JB’s size. Luckily keeping JB separated from the various wires and tubes feeding in and out of her was distracting enough and the equipment’s presence served as an indication she’d been under for several days, if not longer.

"Fuck- Oh shite, Sir. But you be a right sight for me fucking eyes." Eggsy said.

Eggsy stood up from his chair beside the bed and stretched, making a rather poor show of it in Harry’s opinion. Judging by the look in her protégé’s eyes, Harry guessed she should just be grateful he wasn't attempting to join in on JB’s enthusiastic slobbering.

"Valentine?" Harry asked.

She pulled JB against her side, solely to contain the nearly grown pup of course, and sat up a bit more in the bed, glaring at Merlin as he brandished papers in her direction. Not very gentleman like, she knew, but ‘manners maketh the man’ only gets you so far along the continuum of recently shot in the face.

"Aye. Galahad did better than most," Merlin said, nonchalantly waving a hand towards Eggsy. “Even without yeh to hold ‘is leash.”

"Galahad?" Harry asked, ignoring the remainder of the comments with an ease of long practice.

Not that she was surprised Eggsy had been named an agent, especially as he’d been the one to deal with Valentine, but… She did a surreptitious check and was rather relieved to confirm her limbs were, indeed, all present, accounted for, and seemingly not any of Merlin’s Metropolis-inspired replacements.

"'E figured you were fucking corpses" Eggsy explained. Rather conveniently, to Harry, skipping over how exactly he'd gotten the nod when she knew full well Arthur would rather choke on his own bile than let one of her _experiments_ join their ranks. Not that she hadn't been planning on having words with Arthur once she’d gotten back from the continent. Language aside, Eggsy would have - was obviously doing the Kingsman name proud. And, if the rumours she’d heard were true, she had no qualms spying outside of medical, Arthur had been very glad indeed that Eggsy’s dramatics had involved stealing his car rather than shooting him with his "blanks".

"I be doing you proud, you bloody wanker." Eggsy said. Although a touch too adoringly for her peace of mind, especially considering he was still looking for the world, and Merlin’s cameras, like slobbering wasn't completely off the horizon.

Harry smiled at him, "My dear boy. That was never a concern."

She normally might have regretted encouraging his behaviour, but Merlin had obviously rolled out the good drugs. Likely in an attempt to limit the amount of ammo she was planning on pocketing when they wheeled her into forced retirement in the Canadian Rockies.

"Yes, let's all ignore the _very_ busy man here t’make calves’ eyes at each other.” Merlin snarled, in the brusque manner that had characterised their friendship for decades now. "It's not as if I don't have _Her Royal bloody Highness_ kicking down my door for these reports."

"Merlin, be a chap and explain to me why my signature, assuming _you_ couldn't write it clearer than I currently, is needed on anything other than my resignation?" Harry drawled.

Not that she wasn't _relieved_ to not be dead, there had been a new season of QI starting shortly, and hopefully Merlin had thought to PVR it for her, but she had been hoping to skip retirement altogether. Or at least hold out until Kay cracked in jealously.

"I had hoped that you'd be a bit less dense than the troglodyte, Arthur." Merlin thrust the papers at her again.

"No- no- I refuse you, you, _fucking_ Machiavellian git." Harry snarled.

She released her hold on JB, who slumped blissfully into the warm indent she left in her sheets, to reach under the pillow for her hospital gun. Not finding it, she turned to see Eggsy surreptitiously tuck it into his waistband and she turned her glare onto him, for all the good it did when he merely stepped back furiously blushing like a naughty schoolboy.

"I signed the bloody DNR order for just this reason!" Harry hissed, turning back to Merlin in the vain hope she could make, at least one of them, see sense.

"And thank the gods the attendings in America paid as much notice to it as their stance on daily calorie intake.” Merlin said, far too cheerily considering she was now apparently his boss. “Now sign these bloody forms or I'll release you into Galahad’s enthusiastic care."

"You’re a fucking cunt mate," Eggsy said approvingly. Harry noted that for all that he looked murderously embarrassed, he also didn’t look like he’d say 'no' to spending the next month carting her back and forth to the loo in a dressing gown. And here she’d been hoping that his elevation to field agent meant his ridiculous crush would have simmered down to the type of respect where she could generally count on him to follow orders, but where Merlin didn't feel obliged to ask what size collar he should be measuring out.

"Merlin, you do realize that as your boss, I can now have you transported _permanently_ to the Australian branch?" Harry pointed out. Giving in to the inevitable, she grabbed the forms, read them - considering all they had slipped under the previous Arthur’s nose, she wasn't going to start by authorizing a new one gallon coffee maker for the lab – and signed as indicated.

"Excellent!" Merlin cooed. He grabbed the papers from her and stepped out of range and out the door with dizzying speed. "Now I'll leave Galahad here update you on the current situation, as none of us are quite bloody-minded enough to put him back in the field without detailed supervision or a leash."

Harry sighed at his antics as he left and hazarded a good look at Eggsy. Although her erstwhile protégé was now starring, rather despondently, at his shoes - Oxfords polished to a mirror shine - it seemed like he was already driving intel to crack open their very illegal stash of 100 year malt and, whatever else, she is _fiercely_ proud of him.

"Doing the name proud indeed." Harry smiled and motioned for him to sit back down, ‘in the chair– Thank you, Mr. Unwin.’ She also nudged JB out of his wallow, unfortunately waking the little pug up for a second round of slobbering, and did her best to lie back down without seeming too charmed by either of them. "Not that I ever expected to meet my replacement, but I cannot think of anyone I would be happier with wearing my name."

"Ta, Sir." Eggsy blushed and sat at attention; passing her, not only her gun, but something so beautiful and undoubtedly experimental that he must have liberated it from Merlin for her. And, really, she is going lord having found Eggsy over Kay for _years_.

"So ‘es this a time to tell you the last Arthur was a right fucker, an’e sold you out and I killed'm something fierce?" Eggsy asked. He looks not at all remorseful, which Harry is rather relieved about as she certainly won’t be losing any sleep over her predecessor’s “untimely” passing.

"Eggsy, my dear.” Harry said. “I am very happy to hear about our recent good fortunes and will certainly be filling in the paperwork for your commendation just as soon as I can hold a pen properly. But, you realise, your dog is slobbering over my IV, you are still sitting on my bed, and it is now within my purview to have you transported to the continent indefinitely?"

"Too right Guv, but you'd be bored as any’it." Eggsy agreed easily, reaching over to twitch her blankets back into place. “An’ all me rough charms’d be wasted on the Yanks.”

 

* * *

 

With Harry’s capitulation to Merlin's tyranny, the unspoken truce between them saw her signing off several previously benched projects with alacrity in exchange for her mobile, a laptop, and Eggsy getting sent on a milk run to Wales. A milk run which ultimately resulted in three dead government aides, £20 000 worth of damages, and a very strongly worded letter from Her Majesty about the indignity of ‘resource management’ occurring in a Waitrose. Suffice to say, Harry blamed Eggsy entirely for Merlin’s petty revenge, which locked her out of her phone’s settings - who knew Merlin was such a Simon & Garfunkel fan - and ensured that Eggsy was back in time to get her settled at home for convalesce. 

When Eggsy had shown up at her bedside, suit still lightly smoking with a ‘wise buy’ tag stuck to its lapel, she’d called and chewed into Merlin, while the daft git cackled like the devil, he’d shown himself to be. Merlin had then the gall to inform her that Galahad’s probationary status, as he’d obviously not been sanctioned by the previous Arthur, meant Eggsy was the only agent they could spare to ensure her safety during her recovery. Then the gormless pillock had left Galahad’s formal activation documents on her desk, under a stack of agents’ reports and purchasing requests (according to clinic gossip), with the clear indication that Eggsy would be allowed back to work when she was.

Suffice to say, Harry’s convalescence lasted an astoundingly short two months. On record, she was galvanised to a speedy recovery by the tragic waste of resources that saw her, soon-to-be-top, field agent restricted to home guard. Merlin and her both know that story is absolute sophistry though, and, eventually, they’ll laugh at how she’d practically crawled into her office to sign Galahad’s activation after catching Eggsy making dinner in her mothers’ pearls. Even if she had to agree with Merlin, and Eggsy, that they suit his complexion far better than hers.

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always welcomed and appreciated!!


End file.
